Free Bones to Pick by Carolyn Haines Page B

Caledonia
's tone almost frosted my eyebrows. "Get out of our house before I slap your face."
    "Darling, remember your blood pressure."
Franklin
put a hand on her shoulder. He looked at me. "As you can plainly see, you're upsetting my wife. It would be best for you to leave. Now. We deserve, no, demand the right to grieve in private."
    The lord and lady of the manor act had worn a little thin with me. "You're so upset over Quentin's death, you didn't even claim her body for burial."
    Franklin
flinched, but his wife only grew angrier. "Get out of this house," she said, her voice harsh.
    "Miss Delaney, we haven't spoken to Quentin in over a year. She made it very plain to us that she'd severed her ties to this family. I think it would be fair to say that she hated us."
Franklin
held his wife on the sofa with a discreet grip.
    "Why was she so angry with you?" I asked.
    "Quentin was born angry,"
Caledonia
said. "She came out of the womb with a chip on her shoulder. And don't think you can blame it on us.
Umbria
is our daughter, and no one could ask for a more loving and devoted child. Quentin was a changeling. The fairies must have swapped her at birth."
    I saw
Franklin
's grip increase as he sought to stop his wife's tirade. "We gave Quentin every opportunity that money could buy,"
Franklin
said. 'Just as we did
Umbria
. Quentin took the money and all it could buy, and then she wanted to act like it was tainted." His smile was tired. "She could have gone to public school. She didn't have to ride on the equestrian team at Ole Miss. No one forced her to accept vacations in
Europe
, week long spa treatments, and a dietician to plan her menus. In my mind, she was the worst kind of hypocrite."
    Caledonia
had gotten as stiff as a board as her husband spoke.
    He released his wife's shoulder and came to stand in front of me. "Perhaps Shakespeare said it best in King Lear. 'How sharper than a serpent's tooth.'"
    An ungrateful child could break a parent's heart, but I wasn't certain either
Franklin
or
Caledonia
was suffering from heart problems. It was possible they were only worried about their own necks. "Who would want to kill Quentin?"
    "Almost everyone we know,"
Caledonia
said. "Can you possibly understand what she did to us? To our friends. All of their private shame, dug up and put in print. We're social outcasts now because of the action she took."
    What I wanted to say had something to do with the loss of a daughter versus the loss of social position, but I kept my comments to myself. I had no right to judge the McGees because they hadn't loved their daughter the way I'd been loved.
    "Quentin was a great disappointment to us,"
Franklin
said. His mouth quivered. "I'm glad she's dead."
    Even if the words were spoken in anger, Franklin McGee was a fool. His wife knew it, too. I could read it in her cold eyes.
    "We're both terribly upset,"
Caledonia
said. She stood up and walked to stand beside her husband, her hand on his arm. "It's just like Quentin to start a mess like her book and then to duck out on the consequences of her actions. She was an irresponsible child."
    I was having a hard time believing what I was hearing. "Quentin was murdered." I said. "She didn't 'duck out.'"
    Caledonia
waved a hand as she spoke. "You know what I meant."
    "Where were you the night Quentin was killed?"
    "Are you implying--"
Caledonia
started.
    "I'm not implying anything." I was way out of patience. "I simply want an answer. Where were you?"
    "It's none of your business, but we were at the Greenwood Public Library. A fund-raiser. For new books." He barked a laugh. "Isn't that bitterly ironic?"
    "What time was it over?"
    They exchanged a glance. "Sometime after ten,"
Caledonia
said.
    I calculated the distance from
Greenwood
to Zinnia. They could have made the drive, killed Quentin, and gone home. "After you left the fund-raiser, where did you go?"
    "Home."
Caledonia
answered quickly. "We had a nightcap, and then we went to